Betty Whyman, nee Standell
It was a beautiful moonlit night, almost as bright as day. In the house was my mother and father Lilian and Harold, my two brothers Denis and Ken Standell, myself and my father’s mother Eliza.
We had just finished our evening meal when the sirens went and as usual we gathered our things together. My mother picked up a little brown case which I think had important documents in it, which incidentally I still have, and we all went to the Anderson shelter which my father had dug out and constructed in our back garden. My grandmother Eliza did not want to go as she found it difficult to get in and out of it, but my father insisted. We had a little Tilly lamp which gave enough light to see each other by and two upturned plant pots with a candle inside which warmed the pot and it gave out a little bit of warmth.
It was not long before the drone of the bombers’ engines was heard overhead and the bombs started to fall. The guns stationed in the Memorial Park were firing and I presume that it was the shrapnel from the shells that we were hearing falling on the roofs like hail.
My father was on fire-watching duty but kept coming back to see if we were all alright. We had a stirrup pump in the garden just in case.
Halfway through the night, amid all the noise, there was a tremendous explosion, we found out afterwards that it was a land mine which of course we did not hear coming, it dropped in the back garden of the houses opposite our house. I think it was number 57 which is where my friend lived but they were not at home and as far as I know were in a public shelter somewhere.
My father came and opened the door of the shelter and said "We are homeless". Then my mother said "Oh, my new carpet". Previously she had only had lino and a few rugs. I said "My new coat." What silly things to say. Another 100 yards in our direction and I would not be writing this now.
When things quietened down we went to look at what had been our home, as we walked down the garden path I saw a colander hanging on the tree outside the pantry window, inside doors hung off their hinges, windows blown in and looking up you could see the sky. On the chair under the window I had left my knitting and miraculously not a stitch was broken even under all of the glass.
We started walking to my mother's parents’ house at 96 Newcombe Road, leaving my grandmother Eliza at her friend’s house in Moor Street. Walking down Earlsdon Street there did not seem to be any damage at all. As far as I remember on the way we heard the all clear sound a long way in the distance. Possibly at Binley Pit as more than likely the ones nearby had been hit by bombs.
When we arrived at my grandparents’ house we knocked on the door and asked if they had room for a homeless family and there we all stayed for a few weeks until we were fortunate enough to get a house a few weeks before Christmas. It was one that my aunt owned and rented out in Pearson Avenue, the previous tenants had moved out of Coventry to escape the bombing. At first we were not allowed to go into our bomb damaged house to salvage any furniture as it was too dangerous, at some point some things were got out. The headboard of the bed still had shrapnel in it.
I worked at Standard Motor Company at Canley and went back to work on the Monday. It was a night never to be forgotten.
Also cousin Eric George Doubleday then 11-years-old was living in Dymond Road, Coventry, it was possibly on the night of 19 October when he was in a neighbour’s Anderson shelter, as his parents George and Gladys Doubleday were Air Raid Wardens on duty, unfortunately the Anderson Shelter took a direct hit and of the seven people in the shelter Eric was the only survivor as he was blown clear but still trapped under the rubble.
He broke his hip bone and was in Gulson Road Hospital. It was a frantic few days before his parents found out where he was. The Midland Daily Telegraph did an article on his rescue and a photo showing him sitting up in bed in hospital appeared on the 19th December edition.
It also mentioned that Betty Quinn helped to rescue him as she was his neighbour and they both recognised each other’s voices, she got a George Medal for her part. Eric was very brave and had no thought for himself only asking about his friends and parents to each new rescuer to arrive on the scene as he knew them all. His parents were safe thank goodness.